


Thousand Mile Wish

by enigmaticblue



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Revisionist Fairy Tale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-24
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-26 09:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1683761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Grave in a First Evil-less world. Written for the livejournal community seasonal_spuffy, this is one part fairy tale, one part ghost story, and one part me being an incorrigible optimist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thousand Mile Wish

_“Forgive me if now I wear the face of worry. This time alone would never cause any doubt, but I’ve been cold too long. Such a strange time to find myself coming down as the rain, with all these holes, my love, to fill up from the middle. This storm could stay all night now. So can you stay until we close our eyes, ‘til your dreams hold mine. Just stay until we know we tried one more time…” ~Finger Eleven, “Thousand Mile Wish”_

 

**Part I: Return**

 

She wasn’t quite sure what to think the first time she saw him again. It was partly the shock of it, partly that he seemed to coalesce out of thin air. The only reason she was certain he wasn’t a ghost was that his face was solid when she punched him.

 

Even then, Buffy wasn’t convinced that it was truly Spike. The Spike she’d known would have yelled at her, told her to watch the nose, and brushed himself off. Then, depending on the night, he might have either stalked off or talked her into going back to his crypt. It was what they did.

 

Of course, things were different now.

 

That didn’t matter so much. What mattered was that Spike didn’t do any of those things. He stayed on the ground where she’d laid him out, staring up at her as though he was waiting for something—or maybe like he was measuring her. Like he was comparing what she was now to his inner vision of what he thought she should be.

 

Buffy wondered if she measured up. She wasn’t sure she did.

 

They stood there, staring at each other. Buffy was waiting for him to say something sarcastic or angry or even apologetic—just something. She had no idea what Spike was waiting for. The silence was killing her. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Came to see you,” he admitted quietly. “Are you going to stake me?”

 

“What? No,” Buffy replied. “Get up, Spike.” When he didn’t move right away, she reached down and hauled him up by the front of his t-shirt. “What is wrong with you?”

 

“Nothing.” Spike hesitated. “Buffy, I’m sorry.”

 

Buffy looked at him for a long moment, and then she sighed and shook her head. “I know you are, Spike. Look, let’s just—forget it, okay? We can forget it happened.” Spike opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off with a quick shake of her head. “It’s fine if I see you on patrol or something, but do me a favor and stay away from the others and the house. I think it’s better if you keep your distance.”

 

“Whatever you want, Slayer.”

 

And then he was gone.

 

Well, okay, maybe Spike didn’t quite disappear into thin air. There had been times when Angel had seemed almost ghostly in the way he was there and then not-there from one moment to the next. Spike could have just been using his speed to get away from her. After all, if he was worried about her staking him, it was possible that he wanted to get away before she changed her mind.

 

Still, Buffy could have sworn that she took her eyes off of him for only a split second, not long enough for even a vampire to get away.

 

She shook her head, dismissing the chill she got as a reaction to seeing Spike again. It was only natural that she be a little jumpy around him after what had transpired. Even if she was ready to forget—if not forgive—it had still happened. They were no good for each other; that night in her bathroom had proven it.

 

That’s all it was.

 

~~~~~

 

The others had differing reactions to Spike’s return, of course. Xander was prepared to start sharpening stakes, although he didn’t appear ready to actively hunt Spike down. Willow made her concerned face and asked Buffy if she wanted her to revoke Spike’s invitation to the house. Dawn was defiantly angry, saying that she wasn’t going to talk to him, and if Spike came near her she was going to hurt him.

 

Buffy dealt with each of them as she always did. She placated Xander by telling him that she’d warned Spike to stay away, while also reminding him that no one but her got to dust Spike. She notified Willow of approximately the same thing, and said to leave the invitation alone. Buffy told Dawn to stay away from Spike’s crypt, and then told her that she’d ordered Spike to keep his distance.

 

Buffy wasn’t certain, but she thought she’d caught a look of dismay in her sister’s eyes.

 

That was yet another thing that Buffy didn’t want to think about. She knew Dawn and Spike had been close at one time, and she didn’t want to think about how that had been ruined. If she thought about it too hard, she got depressed, and she was trying to not be depressed these days.

 

Most of the time, she did a pretty good job of it.

 

At least Spike made it fairly easy to ignore his presence after that. Buffy could sense him on occasion while she patrolled, but she never saw him. Oddly enough, it made her feel safer. She had asked him to keep his distance, and Spike was acceding to her demand.

 

Plus, she knew he had her back. That was something she had missed while he was gone.

 

It was early October before he reappeared again—literally. It had been almost a month since Spike had first shown up, and Buffy wondered if she would have ever seen him again if she hadn’t tripped.

 

Looking back on it later, Buffy knew she wouldn’t have.

 

It was stupid, really. Spike had made fun of her penchant for wearing high heels while patrolling more than once. Typically, Buffy didn’t have any trouble with them, but her boot heel hit a divot in the grass and she went down. The vampire she had been struggling with immediately took advantage of her upset, straddling her waist and wrapping his hands around her neck.

 

Buffy liked to think she would have managed to get free on her own, but she wasn’t ungrateful for Spike’s help. Especially since it meant that the vampire was dust before it got a good grip on her.

 

He stood there looking down at her, a stake in his hand, for a long moment, and then he turned and walked away.

 

Buffy scrambled to her feet, still stunned by the abruptness of it all. “Spike, wait!” He didn’t even pause. “Spike!”

 

He stopped then, and she hurried to catch up with him, noticing as she did so that he was looking sort of—pale.

 

That was a really obvious description for a vampire, but this was different. Spike looked—less lively. It wasn’t quite like he hadn’t been feeding. Buffy remembered that he’d looked seriously ill when he came to her for help. He looked—

 

Buffy couldn’t think of an appropriate description. Spike was definitely not looking like himself, though. Pair that with his actually staying away from her and his lack of response last time she’d seen him, and Buffy knew that there was something seriously wrong.

 

She didn’t bother asking herself why she cared. That was part of the whole not-thinking-about-it thing she’d been trying lately.

 

“What’s wrong with you?”

 

The question came out a little harsher than she’d intended it, but Buffy didn’t bother trying to soften her stance. There was a part of her that wanted to, but it wasn’t the part in control. Not when Spike was around.

 

“Nothing.”

 

That one word was heavy in the air. Buffy suddenly felt as though she was drowning in emotion—feelings she’d ignored all summer because Spike hadn’t been there. He had been the one to make her feel last year, to make her angry, to make her—

 

No. Not that. Buffy hadn’t loved him. She didn’t do those kinds of things to the people she loved. Buffy wasn’t that kind of girl.

 

“Fine.” She turned away, suddenly tired of it all, wishing that Spike would just go away and never come back. If she never saw him again, she would never have to deal with the way he made her feel.

 

Buffy turned to tell him just that—that he needed to leave town and not come back—when she saw him disappear.

 

Into thin air.

 

~~~~~

 

“No! I’m telling you, Willow, he really did just—poof!”

 

Willow watched as Buffy made a gesture that she assumed was supposed to illustrate Spike’s disappearance. To her, it appeared more as though her friend had been drinking a little too much coffee recently. Not that she could blame her. Buffy’s hours at the Doublemeat Palace had sucked of late. “Buffy—”

 

She huffed, knowing from Willow’s tone of voice she was about to try placating her again. “Why won’t you believe me?”

 

“I do,” Willow assured her. They were in the Slayer’s bedroom. Buffy had pulled her inside as soon as she’d returned home from patrol. “I believe you thought you saw Spike disappearing, but—none of us have seen Spike, Buffy. Are you sure—maybe you’re seeing him because you want to.”

 

Buffy glared at her. “Spike isn’t dead.”

 

“I didn’t say he was,” Willow said, although she had been thinking it. “I just think that maybe it’s wishful thinking.”

 

Buffy shook her head stubbornly, rising from her seat on the bed to start pacing. “You know how Spike is, Will. He always comes back.”

 

“He’s always come back in the past,” Willow corrected her gently. “What would he have come back for this time?”

 

It was something Buffy had asked herself, but she wasn’t willing to discuss it. “Will you just do some research for me?”

 

“Research what?” Willow asked. “We don’t know anything.”

 

“Into spirits or ghosts or anything else that would make it so he would just disappear like that,” Buffy said. “Please, Willow.”

 

“I’ll do it,” Willow promised, although she had no idea what she was supposed to look into since she didn’t have any actual information. She still owed Buffy, however. It would probably be years before she worked off her load of guilt from trying to end the world. “I can’t promise any results, though.”

 

“That’s fine.” Buffy sighed. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe Spike wasn’t there. But I felt him!” She plopped back down on the bed. “I hit him, and then I yanked him up by the shirt. You’re not supposed to be able to do that with a ghost.”

 

Willow frowned. “No, you’re not. Maybe something else?” Her wheels were already turning. Off-hand, she didn’t know of anything that was ghostly and tangible. She knew that there were demons that could teleport, but that didn’t include vampires. “I’ll check it out.”

 

“Thanks, Willow,” Buffy said.

 

There was an awkward silence. Where once Willow would have coaxed Buffy into telling her exactly how she felt about Spike, now she didn’t feel as though she had the right. She figured you lost your best friend privileges when you tried to destroy the world.

 

“Well, good night, Buffy.”

 

Willow got as far as the door before Buffy’s question stopped her. “Would you think I was a freak if I told you I didn’t hate Spike?”

 

Willow turned to look at her. “You’re not a freak.”

 

“What if I told you it was more complicated than that?”

 

“It’s always more complicated than that,” Willow replied. “That’s just life.”

 

Buffy sighed. “I didn’t want to like him, Willow.”

 

“I know.” She hesitated, and then offered. “When Tara and I—you know, started being more than friends, I wasn’t sure I wanted to like her either.”

 

“Are you glad you did?” Buffy asked, a wistful note in her voice.

 

“I wouldn’t trade the time we spent together for anything,” Willow said. “The only thing I regret is that I hurt her, and we spent all that time apart.” Buffy visibly winced, but she didn’t say anything in reply. Willow left quietly after that, although with a lighter feeling inside. She felt as though she and Buffy were connecting for the first time in a long time.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy went searching for him the next night. She checked all of his old haunts: Willy’s, the crypt, the gas station where she knew he liked to buy his cheap cigarettes—anywhere she could think of. When she inquired at each place, she got the same story, however.

 

No one had seen Spike for months.

 

Buffy finally sat down on a park bench. Her feet hurt from walking and her brain hurt from thinking. It just wasn’t fair. Last year, she hadn’t wanted Spike around, and yet it had been impossible to get rid of him. Now, she wanted to find him and he was nowhere to be seen.

 

Then Buffy felt the little tingle that told her he was somewhere nearby. “Spike! I know you’re there!” she called, feeling like an idiot talking to thin air. “Get your undead ass out here where I can see it!”

 

He didn’t appear right away, and Buffy slumped against the park bench, shrieking a little when she caught sight of him sitting right next to her. “Don’t do that!”

 

Instead of making some smart remark, Spike just watched her, his eyes holding a peculiar sort of weariness. “Sorry, Buffy.”

 

Buffy wanted to tell him not to do that either. Spike wasn’t supposed to apologize in that mournful tone of voice. He was supposed to leer and maybe suggest a collar with a bell. He wasn’t acting at all like himself. “What is up with you?” she demanded.

 

“It’s nothing,” he said, sounding almost sullen. “I’m sorry I’ve been bothering you. I won’t any more.”

 

For a moment, Buffy thought she almost saw him begin to fade, and she latched onto his arm. “Don’t you dare.” She stared at him. “You disappeared.”

 

Spike shifted uncomfortably. “Had to, Buffy. After what happened I couldn’t stay.”

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Buffy said impatiently. “Last night, you disappeared into thin air. Poof!” She would have made the hand gesture, but she was afraid that if she let go of him, he’d vanish again. Buffy wanted some answers first.

 

Spike shook his head. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

“Yes, you do. I saw it. And you were going to do it again just a minute ago,” Buffy accused. “What happened to you? You’re different.”

 

“Had to be different, didn’t I?” he asked, his voice so low Buffy could barely make out the words. “So I changed.”

 

Buffy nearly said that she didn’t believe him, but she slammed her mouth shut. The evidence was right there. She was the one who had called him on it. There was no way she could claim that demons didn’t change when she was touching material evidence to the contrary.

 

It was just that she’d become so used to tearing Spike down that actually thinking about what came out of her mouth before she said it was _hard_.

 

“Changed how?” she asked finally.

 

Spike shook his head. “Doesn’t matter.”

 

“I think it does.”

 

“Didn’t ask you, now did I?” he returned. “Look, Buffy, I promised I’d stay away. I’ll keep clear.”

 

“No, Spike.” Buffy struggled for words, realizing that she had no reason to ask him to stay. She should have kicked his ass or staked him or something, and she didn’t.

 

She hadn’t yet let go of his arm either.

 

“Just tell me what happened last night.”

 

He looked down at his hands. “Told you I’d changed.”

 

“So you’re like—what? A ghost?”

 

“Feels that way sometimes,” he admitted. “But, no. Not quite. It’s too hard to explain. Suffice it to say I’m not the man I was.”

 

Buffy again had to swallow the quick retort to that statement. Spike might not be a man, but she was the one who’d been acting like a monster most of the time. “Okay. Are you going to stay around Sunnydale?”

 

“Yeah,” Spike replied. “For as long as I can.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Buffy asked suspiciously.

 

“Nothing,” he responded. “It’s just you never know what’s going to happen, yeah?”

 

“Yeah, I guess,” Buffy replied, still feeling as though she was missing something really important, and yet not knowing how deep she wanted to delve. “Do you want to patrol with me? It’s going to be tomorrow, because, you know—it’s late.”

 

“It is,” Spike agreed. “You probably ought to be getting home then.”

 

“Where are you staying?” Buffy asked. “I didn’t see—I went by your crypt.”

 

Spike shrugged. “Here and there. It’s not important.”

 

Buffy wanted to argue with him, but she figured if she was any nicer to Spike, she’d have to start asking herself some hard questions, and she wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she started to walk away, and then turned to ask Spike where they were going to meet.

 

He was gone again.

 

**Part II: Fading**

 

Spike curled up on the makeshift bed he’d cobbled together and tried not to think. He didn’t understand her. He didn’t think he ever would. Buffy had always run hot and cold on him, but this was a bit much. She tells him she doesn’t want him around, and then she goes looking for him.

 

In fact, if he didn’t know better, Spike would have said that she was actually concerned about him.

 

He sighed and shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. Spike was tired, and yet he never slept these days. It was probably part of the change. They’d warned him what would happen. As the time drew near, he’d become less and less a part of this world, and more—

 

Well, they’d had a fancy word for it. That had been the catch. Spike should have known that you never trust the guy with all the cards, and old Lurky had been no exception to the rule. Not two seconds after the demon had slapped the soul inside Spike’s chest, a couple of others had shown up.

 

Spike had been able to smell the power on them. They looked fairly human, except for the fact that they glowed in the cave’s dim light, but he couldn’t be entirely sure about that. That could just have been him hallucinating. It was possible.

 

Apparently there was something they didn’t like about a vampire asking for a soul. It threw off the balance, or so they claimed. With his wish, Spike had inadvertently caused a minor mystical faux pas, and they had threatened some rather dire things.

 

That had been a paraphrase, and Spike wasn’t sure he’d caught everything they were saying to him. The words had been longer, and there had been a lot more of them, and he’d drifted in and out the entire speech.

 

“We’ll tell you what, vampire,” one of the demons had finally said. She had just gotten done explaining how the world was going to end because Spike had switched sides and asked for his soul back. “We’ll make a deal with you. Find someone who is good that is willing to love you—enough to risk death for you—and balance will be restored. If that person can love something that is evil, then that will keep the balance between darkness and light. Otherwise, your life and your soul are forfeit to us. You have until All Hallow’s Eve.”

 

Looking back on it, Spike knew he’d been stupid to agree to the deal. They had probably been lying through their teeth about the whole world being thrown off balance. People switched sides in the battle all the time—it wasn’t like he was the first, nor would he be the last.

 

Although, he might just be the only vampire ever to have _asked_ for his soul.

 

Spike had done some asking around on his way from Africa to Sunnydale, and no one knew what they were. The more time passed, the more certain he was that they were some mystical con artists, out to harvest the souls of anyone stupid enough to believe their line of bullshit.

 

And he’d just handed them his on a silver platter.

 

In his own defense, Spike had been in more than a little pain at the time and had been chock-full of guilt. The idea of sacrificing himself to save the world—and, incidentally, Buffy—had been appealing. They’d caught him at a weak moment, and he had agreed to the deal before he’d had time to think it over.

 

Even so, on the off chance they were telling the truth, there was no way he was going to be the one responsible for the world ending. If he caused the next apocalypse, Buffy would be the one fighting on the front lines to prevent it, and he wouldn’t hurt the girl. Not again.

 

Now he wasn’t entirely of this world, which meant that he couldn’t be killed. It was a little protective measure they’d put into place so that nothing happened to him before they wanted it to. Come the end of the month, though, he’d be gone for good, and there was no hope of escape.

 

He was bound to the bargain, and there was no way that Buffy was ever going to love him, and there wasn’t anyone else he knew of who would be willing to stand for him. Maybe he could have managed to charm his way into someone’s good graces in a few months’ time, but he refused to use someone in that way. Spike hadn’t come back to Sunnydale in the hope of saving himself. He’d come back because he wanted to make things right—or to try, anyway.

 

Sitting up, Spike sighed. It didn’t look like he was going to be getting any sleep.

 

He wasn’t sure that he’d ever be able to sleep again.

 

~~~~~

 

Spike didn’t have any trouble finding Buffy the next night. These days, he seemed to have a sixth sense for where he’d find her. Of course, it might have something to do with her being the reason he’d gotten his soul.

 

The ability to disappear was actually a disadvantage since it wasn’t something he was in control of. Plus, it was a bit scary to not know where he went in between point A and point B. Spike wondered sometimes if he’d come back. It was one of those things he tried not to think about. It was easier that way.

 

Tonight, however, Spike didn’t try to sneak up on her. He moved towards her, making certain to make some noise as he went. Buffy actually smiled when she saw him. It threw him off. “Buffy.”

 

“So where have you been staying?” she asked.

 

Spike lifted an eyebrow. Buffy had asked the same question the previous night, and he hadn’t wanted to tell her then. He had no intention of telling her now. There were things she just didn’t need to know. “Told you last night. Here and there.”

 

Buffy frowned. “Come on, Spike. How am I supposed to find you if I need you?”

 

Spike shook his head. “I’ll be around. You won’t need to come looking for me.”

 

“Does that mean you’re going to be stalking me again?”

 

She almost sounded like she was teasing him, but Spike wasn’t quite sure how to take her question. “Don’t have to stay around. If you don’t want me here, just say the word.”

 

“I didn’t mean it like that, Spike,” Buffy said.

 

Spike looked down at the ground, wondering why he’d even come back to Sunnydale. The first night he’d seen her, when Buffy had punched him in the nose, he’d wondered if she’d stake him. Truth be told, he’d wanted her to. Spike was sort of hoping that if Buffy tried, she’d succeed. There was a large part of him that wished he’d never left Sunnydale. Maybe if he hadn’t left, Buffy would have just dusted him.

 

He couldn’t help thinking that would have been a better alternative to what he had to look forward to. “Yeah, alright.”

 

Buffy looked uncomfortable, and Spike sighed. He had wanted to come back here to make amends, not because he expected anything from her.

 

Why had he even bothered? It wasn’t like she was ever going to love him.

 

“I should go,” he said. “I never should have come back here.” Spike could feel himself fading out, and he couldn’t stop it. It was just like the previous night, when he’d felt as though she was getting angry with him again and dismissing him out of hand.

 

Treating him like a non-person.

 

“Spike, wait.” Buffy grabbed onto him again, but this time her eyes were devoid of anger. “Please tell me what’s going on. What’s happened to you?”

 

“There’s nothing you can do about it,” Spike said, knowing as he spoke that it was nothing but the truth. The Slayer couldn’t help who she loved, or didn’t love, any more than he could.

 

There was a kind of fear that entered her eyes then. “How long do you have?”

 

“Few weeks,” he replied, knowing that he couldn’t lie to her. Perhaps he wouldn’t tell her the whole truth, but he owed her a piece of it anyway. “I just wanted to make my peace with you is all.”

 

She started shaking her head. “No, we can stop it. We can save you. We’ve done it before.”

 

“No.” It was one word, but it held all his resignation. Spike meant it. Even if he told her what it would take to win that bet, even if Buffy agreed to a charade, telling them she loved him when she didn’t—it wouldn’t work. They would know. Of that he was certain.

 

Spike knew he was their prize catch, and they weren’t going to give him up without a fight.

 

Besides, he really didn’t want to look like a total git for being stupid enough to make the deal in the first place. Spike didn’t want her to rescue him.

 

He wanted her to love him just because she did.

 

“I told you I changed, Buffy,” Spike said quietly. “This was part of the deal.”

 

Buffy took a step back from him, staring at him in horror. “You changed for me, because—” She stopped, unable to go on. “You’re saying I did this to you.”

 

“No!” Spike said quickly. “I chose this. I didn’t have to—”

 

The damage had already been done, however. Spike felt himself wink out of existence.

 

And then he was nowhere.

 

~~~~~

 

When he found himself _somewhere_ again, Spike was outside the old high school. They had apparently torn the old husk of the building down and put up a new one, and he wondered whose bright idea that was. Sure, put a bunch of teenage hormone bombs right on top of a mystical convergence, because that made so much sense.

 

Spike felt a vague tug in the general direction of where Buffy probably was, but he ignored it. He had apologized to Buffy. That was really all he’d needed to do. It wasn’t like he had all that much time left anyway. Why torture himself with something he could never have?

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

The cold voice snapped him out of his melancholy thoughts, and Spike stared at Dawn. She seemed taller to him, and he found himself at a loss for words. “Wh—”

 

“Why did you come back?” she asked. “Why did you even bother coming back?”

 

Spike backed up a step, knowing that he was probably not going to be able to stick around for very long in the face of the girl’s righteous anger. “Dawn—”

 

“Why did you have to leave?” Dawn demanded, moving closer again. “You didn’t even say goodbye to me! I thought you promised to protect me!”

 

Spike took a cautious step forward. “Dawn, luv, I—”

 

“You weren’t there, and I needed you!”

 

She still wasn’t moving, and Spike reached out and ever-so-tentatively touched her arm. “I’m sorry. I needed to tell you that. I’m real sorry.”

 

Dawn smacked him on the chest, but she didn’t pull away. “Buffy told me what happened,” she said. “She said she told you not to come around.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“You never let that stop you before,” she said with a pout. Dawn sat down on the school steps that rose just behind them. “I was really mad at you when she said you were back.”

 

“You still mad?” Spike asked, not joining her.

 

Dawn glared at him. “Duh. Maybe, if you stick around long enough this time, I’ll get over it.”

 

Spike winced. “Yeah, about that—”

 

“Is Buffy making you leave town?” she asked. “You didn’t hurt her, did you? Because if you did—”

 

“I didn’t hurt her,” he interrupted. Spike hated that Dawn would think him capable of hurting someone he loved.

 

Of course, he had hurt Buffy. He’d hurt the girl, and he’d broken his promise, so he couldn’t feel too bad about going to hell. It was no more than he deserved.

 

“It’s just that I can’t stay past the end of the month,” Spike finally said. “I—I’ve got a bargain. Didn’t have much of a choice.”

 

Dawn shot up. “So you came back just so you could leave again? What kind of a stupid deal is that?”

 

“That was the deal I made,” Spike said softly. “I wanted to change, make sure I wouldn’t ever hurt Buffy—or you. I’m sorry.”

 

He seemed to be saying that a lot lately.

 

She glared at him. “Fine. You have to leave.” Dawn turned to stalk off.

 

Spike hurried after her. There was no way he was going to let her walk home alone. He also felt a lot more solid around Dawn. Buffy made him feel transparent.

 

As though he wasn’t really there at all.

 

“I’m not letting you walk home by yourself,” he told her.

 

Dawn glared at him. “I don’t need a babysitter.”

 

“And I’m not letting you walk home alone.”

 

They stared at one another for a long moment, and then Dawn rolled her eyes. “Whatever, Spike. Walk me home.”

 

“What were you doing out late anyway?” he asked, belatedly realizing how that might sound. He didn’t have the right to ask those kinds of questions anymore.

 

Dawn seemed to accept it from him, though. “I had a meeting after school,” she explained. “The guidance counselor said that I should get involved, so I thought I’d join yearbook.” Her face softened. “Mom was on yearbook.”

 

“Bet she was good at it, too.” Spike had no doubt that Joyce could do whatever she put her hand to. She had been one determined lady.

 

Dawn shrugged. “I don’t know. It might be cool, though.” She seemed to be considering her next words carefully, and Spike stayed silent, waiting. “Why did you come back, Spike?”

 

“Had to patch things up if I could,” Spike replied. “After…” He trailed off, not sure of how much Dawn knew, or how much he wanted her to know.

 

“Buffy told me,” Dawn said. “Well, Xander told me, and then Buffy refused to tell me anything at all, so I kept bugging her until she did.” She paused. “And then I read her diary, and if you tell her about that, I will hurt you.”

 

Spike’s lips twitched. Same old Dawn. “My lips are sealed.”

 

“What did you agree to?” Dawn asked.

 

Spike shrugged. “Everything comes with a price, Dawn.”

 

“What price?”

 

“Doesn’t matter.”

 

“Yes, it does.”

 

“Not to you.”

 

“Just tell me.”

 

“No.”

 

Dawn glared at him. “Stubborn vampire.”

 

“Yeah, what of it?” Spike asked, unrepentant.

 

Dawn’s eyes softened, and for just a moment she looked at him like they were friends again. “I don’t want you to leave again, Spike. It’s not the same without you around here. Besides, I’m not done being mad at you yet.”

 

“Got some groveling to do, huh?” Spike asked, although whatever humor there was in his voice was overlaid by a thick regret.

 

She nodded. “Yeah, you do. How long do you have?”

 

“Until Halloween,” Spike replied. He shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing. “Guess it’ll actually be interesting this year.”

 

Dawn swallowed hard. “Will you come back?” she asked, although she could see the answer already in his eyes.

 

“I’ll be around, Dawn,” Spike said softly. They were at her front door, and he had no desire to find out whether or not Buffy had rescinded his invitation again.

 

He started off down the front walk, and he could hear Dawn’s voice behind him, too soft for anything but vampire hearing to pick up. “I don’t want you to leave again.”

 

Spike didn’t turn. He didn’t want to leave again, either, but he didn’t have a choice. At least he knew that there was one Summers who didn’t hate him.

 

**Interlude**

 

“Is it working?”

 

“Considering that their conversations haven’t lasted for more than ten minutes, I’d say it was working.”

 

“You were the one who had the bright idea of making him disappear every time she started getting snippy,” he said. “I wanted to lock them in a room together.”

 

“So they could kill each other?” she asked.

 

He shrugged. “Either that or they’d start doing each other upside down and sideways.”

 

She made a disgusted sound. “These things take a little more finesse than that. Screwing each other silly is what got them into trouble in the first place.”

 

“The Slayer’s denial is what got them into trouble,” he corrected her. “I don’t see how she’s going to come out of that when the vampire disappears every time she talks to him.”

 

“If she finds a different way of talking to him, he won’t disappear,” she pointed out smugly. “You were the one who decided they needed a nudge in the right direction.”

 

“Obviously,” he observed dryly. “They still do.” He shook his head. “This really is pathetic. The Slayer only has a few more weeks.”

 

The woman shook her head. Sometimes her companion had no idea how to handle people. The Powers had seen a need for someone to deal with the vampire who had actually asked for his soul. Without some sort guidance, it was all too likely that the vampire wouldn’t be able to fulfill his destiny as a champion. Far from being the one to upset the balance, he was one of the ones who was going to be responsible for keeping it—and he needed the Slayer to do it.

 

Of course, it _was_ rather a dirty trick they were playing on Spike. The poor creature thought he was going to be dragged down to hell.

 

“Give her time. She’s a smart girl, and she wants him around. She’ll figure out how to keep him.”

 

He raised an eyebrow but decided not to argue with her. It was unlikely that either the Slayer or the vampire would figure out who was behind this little charade until they were ready to reveal themselves.

 

“You’re the one running the show,” he replied. “Although I’d like to know what you’re going to tell the vampire when he finds out that we aren’t sending him to hell, no matter what the Slayer chooses to do.”

 

The woman shook her head. “I told you. She’ll do no such thing. Do you know how rare it is for a mortal to know a love such as his?” She sighed. “Isn’t that the reason why we’re here?”

 

“So much love,” he replied. “It’s altogether too rare. Perhaps she’ll finally realize that he’s exactly what she needs.”

 

The woman shook her head. “She’s lucky the Powers sent us to get involved. Knowing how stubborn those two are, they’ll need more than a nudge in the right direction.”

 

**Part III: Wanting**

 

“I saw Spike last night,” Dawn announced.

 

“You what?” Buffy asked. “I told him to stay away from you.”

 

Dawn gave her sister a dirty look. “I can take care of myself, Buffy. And when were you going to tell me that Spike wasn’t going to stick around?”

 

“He told you about that?” Buffy asked. “Wait, what did he tell you?”

 

“Spike said that he’d made a bargain to change, and that he had to go at the end of the month and he wasn’t going to be able to come back.” Dawn paused in the middle of pouring her cereal. “I don’t want him to leave town again.”

 

“I don’t either,” Buffy admitted. “It’s just that every time I try to talk to him, he disappears.”

 

“He didn’t disappear last night,” Dawn replied. “Maybe it’s you.”

 

Buffy looked hurt. “You’re saying he doesn’t want to be around me?”

 

Dawn shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess you’ll have to figure out why he keeps disappearing in the first place.”

 

Buffy looked at the clock and groaned. “Darn it. I’ve got a shift at the Doublemeat.”

 

“You did put in your notice, didn’t you?” Dawn asked.

 

Buffy nodded. “Yes, I did. Now that the loan check came through, we should be fine.”

 

“It’s about time,” Dawn said, breathing a sigh of relief. If she had to eat one more Meat Medley, she was going to shoot somebody. Possibly her sister.

 

Buffy grimaced. “Yeah, well, someone had to pay the mortgage.”

 

Dawn huffed. “Well, as far as I’m concerned, Dad should have been the one doing it the entire time.”

 

“You won’t get any arguments from me,” Buffy replied. “I’ll see you later tonight, okay?” She put the cow hat on with a habitual wince.

 

To her credit, Dawn didn’t even snicker. “You got it. Maybe you should look for Spike again while you’re on patrol,” she suggested. “And try not to make him disappear again.”

 

“That totally wasn’t my fault,” Buffy shot back. “Can I help it if Spike just disappears?”

 

They were brave words, since Buffy had the funny feeling that she was the cause behind the whole thing.

 

~~~~~

 

It wasn’t really Spike’s fault that things had gotten better after he’d left town. Mostly it had to do with the fact that the social worker who’d been assigned to their case after Doris Kroeger was more interested in helping Buffy find ways to make things better, rather than finding fault. It had been Ms. Andrews who’d suggested filing a petition with the court to have her father’s pay garnished for child support. Even though Buffy was over eighteen, Dawn wasn’t, and Ms. Andrews thought he ought to be at least helping with her support.

 

With the social worker’s help, Buffy managed to get her dad to start sending them money on a monthly basis, enough to pay most of the mortgage. She also managed to get her application into UC Sunnydale before the final deadline. Ms. Andrews had helped with that as well. When Buffy had asked why she was so helpful, the woman had simply shaken her head. “Mrs. Kroeger comes from the older school, Buffy. I prefer to make every possible effort to allow siblings to stay together.”

 

Things had gotten much better over the summer as a result. Buffy had managed to save up some money, which meant that she could quit her job at the Doublemeat now that school had started. Willow was paying more rent, which meant they actually had real food in the house again. Money was still tight, but the situation wasn’t desperate.

 

Buffy was happier, Dawn was happier, life was better.

 

Except for the small issue of missing Spike.

 

Buffy was well aware that she shouldn’t be missing him, but she did. She wanted to kick his undead, bleached ass. She also wanted his hands and mouth to work their magic and make her troubles disappear as they had so many times in the past.

 

Buffy knew it was wrong, and yet he’d been the one to make her feel. There had been moments where she’d felt so _loved_ in his arms. She suspected that if things hadn’t gone so horribly wrong, she might have eventually gone back to him. That epiphany she’d had crawling out of the grave had included a certain realization about Spike.

 

After all, why should she demand that her boyfriend have a soul when her—human—best friend came _this close_ to ending the world?

 

Of course, that kind of realization didn’t do her a heck of a lot of good when Spike wasn’t around, and apparently it wasn’t doing her much good now that he was back. Not if he was disappearing every time she tried to have a conversation with him.

 

There was still that small, annoying voice in the back of her mind that reminded her that Spike hadn’t disappeared on Dawn, that she hadn’t been terribly nice to him since he reappeared, that she hadn’t shared any of these thoughts with him.

 

Buffy still wasn’t very good at listening to that voice, but it wouldn’t shut up, and working at the Doublemeat wasn’t mentally demanding. She couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Spike and what he’d told her and Dawn. As angry as she’d been at his insinuation that it was her fault that he was going to have to leave again, Buffy knew that she had to take some of the blame. Not to mention the fact that Spike probably hadn’t meant it that way at all.

 

As soon as she got off work, Buffy went home, took a quick shower to wash off the grease, and dressed for patrol. She didn’t bother questioning why she pulled on the jeans that she knew showed off her figure best. Nor did she question why she wore the same red shirt she’d worn that night she had kissed Spike for the first time.

 

Well, the second time they kissed. It had been the first time there had been any tongue involved.

 

In order to make sure she didn’t question her choice of clothing, Buffy was sure to pull her hair back, knowing that Spike liked it better down. It seemed a good compromise.

 

She kept a sharp eye out for Spike, her senses fully extended. Buffy felt like she needed to find him; they had to discuss what he meant by saying that he wasn’t going to be able to stick around. She needed to figure out how to stop it, how to prevent him from leaving. Whatever it took.

 

Buffy sighed. That also meant she was going to have to find some way to prevent him from disappearing.

 

She caught a glimpse of his bleach-blond hair and hurried her steps to catch up. “Spike!”

 

Buffy could see him glance around, startled, and immediately start to fade from view. “No, you don’t,” she muttered, running to grab him before he could disappear from view completely. As long as they were in physical contact, Spike didn’t seem prone to vanishing.

 

She hit his flickering body with a flying tackle and wound up straddling his middle. His body’s reaction was immediate, and Buffy figured if vampires could flush in embarrassment, he would. “Buffy,” he began, trying to push her off of him.

 

“I’m not going anywhere,” she stated firmly. “Not until I know that you’re not going go up in smoke.”

 

“Should hope not,” Spike muttered, lying back down. “That’s not the way I want to go out.”

 

Buffy moved up a little bit so that she was sitting on him in a slightly less awkward position. “So is this how we’re going to do it, or can we go somewhere and talk?”

 

“You tell me,” Spike replied. “You’re the only one who seems to have the knack for making me go all transparent.”

 

“Where do you go?” Buffy asked curiously.

 

“Dunno,” he replied, and she could see the discomfort in his eyes.

 

With a sigh, Buffy got up, offering him a hand up. “Do you want to go somewhere to talk?”

 

“That would depend on whether you’re planning on talking or yelling. If you’re going to be yelling at me, I’d prefer we do it right here.”

 

“I’m not going to yell,” Buffy replied stiffly. “I just—I want to know what happened, Spike. You said you changed for me.”

 

Spike shrugged. “I changed. It doesn’t matter. End of story.”

 

“Why doesn’t it matter?”

 

“Because it doesn’t change anything,” Spike replied. “Can I go now?”

 

“Please don’t.” Buffy knew she needed to say something to keep him there, something that would explain how she’d missed him, how she’d wanted to tell him about the new social worker, and her dad finally paying up, and starting school and quitting the Doublemeat.

 

How when she’d started sleeping with him she’d somehow lost her best friend without even realizing it.

 

Spike’s face was unreadable. “What do you want from me?”

 

“I just want you,” Buffy replied, knowing as the words came out that he was going to take that the wrong way. “Not—I mean, can we just talk?”

 

She could tell that he wasn’t quite sure how to react to her request. He seemed torn between leaving and staying, and Buffy waited for him to make up his mind with a tension that had her strung wire-tight. “Yeah, let’s go talk, Slayer.”

 

**Part IV: Learning**

 

Spike wasn’t sure what to expect when Buffy led him to a bar he’d never seen before. He was not really sure what to expect when she paid the cover charge for the both of them. “Do you want something to drink?”

 

The music was loud enough that Buffy had to lean in to ask him without shouting, and Spike could feel her warm breath on his cheek.

 

He wanted her. After all this time, after what he’d nearly done, he still wanted her. Buffy still had a nearly instantaneous effect on him. “I can get it,” he replied.

 

She shook her head. “I’ve got some money,” she replied. “That’s part of what I have to tell you. Do you want anything?”

 

“Beer,” he finally replied. “Whatever they’ve got on tap is fine.”

 

“Why don’t you find us a table?” she suggested. “I’ll get the drinks.”

 

Spike found a table off in a corner, wondering what to expect. Wondering what the bloody hell he was doing here with her. It didn’t seem right somehow.

 

Buffy brought a bottle for both of them, and Spike found himself surprised that she knew to get a decent import. “Thanks,” he murmured as he took the bottle from her. He didn’t know whether to be touched that she got him the good stuff, or annoyed that she hadn’t listened to his order.

 

The feeling that hung between them was the sort that had been there at the best of times, when Spike had believed that everything would eventually work itself out. Eventually Buffy would realize how much he loved her, and maybe she wouldn’t love him back, but she’d at least accept his feelings for what they were worth.

 

He’d buggered that chance right and proper.

 

“So what’s this about you having money?” Spike asked when it appeared that the silence could go on forever if he didn’t speak.

 

Buffy began to tell him about the new social worker, her classes, the fact that her wanker of a father was helping them out. It was everything Spike had hoped for—Buffy was doing well, she and Dawn were getting along, they were happy.

 

Buffy was finally happy, and it had nothing to do with him.

 

Spike managed to keep his growing sense of despair off of his face as the Slayer went on. He should be content that Buffy had managed to do okay for herself, rather than be angry that it hadn’t been his doing. It just proved that he really wasn’t any good for her.

 

He should have left town sooner.

 

“It’s good that you’re doing so well, Buffy,” Spike finally said, hoping that he sounded sincere.

 

Buffy stared down at her bottle. The beer was gone, and she’d started peeling the label off. She was working very hard at avoiding Spike’s eyes. “Yeah, well, it hasn’t been the same without you around.”

 

“Apparently not,” he murmured. “Sounds like it’s been better.”

 

“My situation last year wasn’t your fault Spike,” Buffy said firmly. “I know I probably made you think that, or made you think I felt that way, but I was wrong.”

 

Spike could hardly believe what he was hearing. “What?”

 

“I was wrong.” Buffy sounded a little surer of herself this time around. “Things got bad, but we were both at fault.”

 

He blinked. “What exactly are you saying?”

 

“I don’t want you to leave,” Buffy said clearly. “I mean, I don’t really know what our relationship will look like, or what it should look like, but I really want you to stay in town. I’ve missed you.”

 

Spike laughed bitterly. Trust Buffy to figure that out just when neither of them could do anything about it. “I’m sorry, but that’s not for me to say. I made a deal, and now I’m stuck.”

 

“A deal for what?” Buffy demanded. “What reason do you have for leaving when you just got back?”

 

Spike decided to take the plunge and tell her. After all, Buffy did seem to be in a listening mood. He didn’t plan on telling her the whole truth, however, not when it would just make it harder on the two of them. It was obvious that Buffy did better when he wasn’t around. Once she got over him leaving, she’d be able to move on easily enough. “Got my soul,” he stated. “Deal was I got to come back here and see you again, but—well, it seems that me asking for the soul threw the world out of balance. They said it would cause an apocalypse. I didn’t want that.”

 

Spike could see the wheels turning in Buffy’s head as she put two and two together. For once, she actually came up with the right answer. “Why can’t you just give up your soul?” she asked. “You can live without it.”

 

“That wasn’t the deal,” Spike said. “The soul’s permanent, Buffy. There’s only one way to get rid of it. Either I dust, or they take it, and I made the deal with them. They said it was the only way.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “No. There has to be another way. Who are these people, or demons, or whatever? I’ll stop them.”

 

“You can’t.” Spike was touched by her concern, even though it was too little, too late. It seemed that she had some feeling for him after all. “Won’t risk you through my stupidity. You shouldn’t have to face an apocalypse just because I—” He stopped, not wanting to continue with that thought. “I just wanted to come back, make things right if I could.”

 

Buffy stared at the shredded remains of the label. “You just got back.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Spike watched as she struggled with what to say. He knew he had about a fifty-fifty chance. Either Buffy would decide to walk away now and write him off, or she’d refuse to believe that it was going to happen and act like nothing was wrong.

 

In a moment, he had her answer. “No.”

 

“No, what?”

 

“No,” she repeated. “I know you think that there’s nothing we can do, but we’ve dealt with impossible odds before. We’ll work something out.”

 

“Buffy,” Spike began, his voice gentle.

 

“Don’t,” she said stubbornly. “Don’t tell me that there’s nothing I can do.”

 

“There isn’t anything you can do,” Spike said, knowing that he was pushing his luck. He didn’t care. Buffy wasn’t listening to him again.

 

Of course, she _was_ being incredibly nice to him, nicer than ever before. That was something.

 

“I’ll figure something out.” She fixed him with a fierce look. “Don’t argue.”

 

Spike sat back in his chair with a sigh. He knew that expression. No matter what he said, Buffy was going to insist on searching for answers that didn’t exist.

 

Well, they did exist, but there was no way Buffy was going to be willing to love something like him.

 

“I won’t argue.”

 

“Good.” Then her face changed. “You really got your soul for me?”

 

“Who else would I have gotten it for?” Spike replied, suddenly uncomfortable.

 

Buffy searched his face, meeting his eyes for the first time since they’d sat down. He dropped his gaze, unable to face the silent questions he found there—not when he remembered the shock and horror that had been present before he’d left Sunnydale.

 

The guilt was a bitch.

 

Spike felt a gentle touch on his cheek, and he allowed her to turn his face so she could meet his eyes again. “Oh, Spike,” she said. He didn’t quite recognize the emotion that echoed in her voice. “I’m sorry, too. We really messed things up.”

 

With a start Spike realized that he was seeing compassion. “It’s alright,” he replied hoarsely.

 

“No, it’s not,” Buffy replied. “But it will be. We’ll make it alright.”

 

~~~~~

 

When Spike woke the next evening, he wondered if the previous day’s events had been a dream. He and Buffy hadn’t been that easy together since right after her resurrection. Those days, they could sit together for hours, and even the silences had been comfortable. That had all changed with a kiss. It wasn’t supposed to go that way.

 

Last night had been a revelation. Not only had Buffy bought him a drink, but they’d talked. Both of them—for hours. Last call had come, and Spike had walked her home. It had been everything he’d ever wanted.

 

Well, there was a part of him that wouldn’t have minded if they’d finished up in bed, but he was mostly content to enjoy her company.

 

Knowing that he only had three more weeks was a sobering thought, but maybe it was for the best. If he stuck around, and it got bad again, Spike would never be able to forgive himself.

 

He couldn’t help but think that it was the time limit that had Buffy being so nice to him in the first place, though. She was treating him with the kind of care you’d treat a dying person. Spike couldn’t decide whether to relish her kindness or be angry that it had taken a soul and an imminent trip to hell to bring it out of her.

 

“Spike?”

 

He sat up, the blanket he’d found dropping off of his shoulders. How the bloody hell had she found him?

 

“Spike? Are you decent?”

 

There was a part of him that wondered what she would do if he stayed silent. Would Buffy leave? Wouldn’t that be better? Maybe this was a mistake. He should—

 

“There you are.” She walked into the room, looking around the dilapidated interior. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

 

He tilted his head. “How’d you find me?”

 

“I had Willow do a locator spell,” Buffy replied. She had the grace to look embarrassed. “I know you said you had a few weeks, but what if those guys come after you sooner?”

 

“I’m not staying at your house,” Spike said bluntly.

 

She glared at him. “Did I ask you to? I just figured it would be better if I knew where you were staying.”

 

Spike reached for his boots. The old house wasn’t nearly as secure as the lower level of his crypt had been, which was why he didn’t dare undress to sleep. He’d rather have all his clothes on if someone was going to walk in and surprise him.

 

Someone like Buffy.

 

Spike concentrated on his laces, wondering what he was supposed to say to her. What did the Slayer mean by coming here? What did she want from him?

 

“I just wanted to be sure you were really here.”

 

Spike’s head shot up, and he wondered if he’d asked that last question out loud. He hadn’t thought so. “What?”

 

“Last night was the closest thing to a date I’ve had in—” Buffy paused to think, sinking to the floor gracefully as she did so. “—years, probably,” she finished. “It was nice.”

 

“Yeah, it was.” Spike stared down at his hands.

 

The silence stretched out awkwardly. Buffy finally cleared her throat. “Willow’s looking into this thing,” she said. “From what you said, they have to be some kind of soul-stealing demons, and there can’t be too many of those, right? Maybe we can find some way to stop them when they show up.”

 

“Maybe,” he allowed. Spike was afraid to look at her—afraid to see that look in her eyes. The one that spoke volumes about regretting her choice of companion for the previous evening.

 

“I promised the gang I’d go to the Bronze this evening,” Buffy said.

 

Spike nodded. “Right.”

 

“We haven’t had a lot of chances to hang out recently,” she explained. “Otherwise, we would be researching, but—”

 

“There’s no need, Buffy,” Spike interrupted. “I know what I’ve gotten myself into. No more than I deserve.”

 

“Spike—”

 

He patted his pockets, desperately searching for his cigarettes. Spike needed a fag badly. “It’s okay,” he muttered. “You’ve got places to be. I understand that. You should get going. They’ll be waiting for you.”

 

Buffy sighed, and he recognized the sound. It was invariably accompanied by an eye roll. “Would you please look at me, Spike?”

 

He didn’t want to, but Spike knew he was being a coward. He’d never backed down from Buffy in the past, even when her fists were flying. When he finally met her eyes, she was looking at him with an expression that could only be classified as a kind of amused frustration. “Do you want to go with me?”

 

Spike frowned. “Where?”

 

“To the Bronze. Duh.” Buffy shook her head. “Willow’s going to be there. Maybe if you can talk to her, it will shake something loose from that thick skull of yours.”

 

Spike couldn’t take offense at her words, not when Buffy sounded almost—fond of him? “If you want me there, Buffy.”

 

“We were supposed to patrol the other night,” she reminded him. “You still owe me.”

 

“Guess I do.” Spike lit a cigarette, trying not to show his confusion. “Yeah, okay.”

 

Buffy smiled. “Good. We can research and have fun at the same time.”

 

**Part V: Holding On**

 

She wasn’t quite sure what had changed. Well, Spike had definitely changed. He was quieter, for one, less pushy, not nearly so quick to challenge her. Buffy wasn’t sure if it was because of the soul or if it had to do with what had happened between them in her bathroom.

 

Buffy knew she should probably be a little more wary of Spike. It probably wasn’t normal for a girl to want to hang out with the guy who had attacked her. On the other hand, it definitely wasn’t normal for a girl to sleep with a guy who had tried to kill her, then had fallen in love with her, chained her up to prove his love, and then got tortured to protect her little sister.

 

Really, when you added up the sum total of their relationship, there was nothing normal about it, and Buffy was a little tired of trying to figure out what she should do. While sleeping with Spike had probably been one of the worst decisions she’d ever made, it hadn’t been bad because it was Spike.

 

It had been bad because of what it had turned into.

 

The previous evening, just going out to the bar and talking, had reminded her that there had been very good reasons behind her hanging out with him so much after she’d been resurrected. That Spike wasn’t the same one who had whispered in her ear about joining him in the darkness.

 

Buffy wondered if that was more because he didn’t believe he deserved her these days, rather than realizing that she didn’t belong in the darkness with him.

 

He belonged with her, where the Slayer had always lived, on the borderland between darkness and light.

 

She had given Xander a stern warning before agreeing to come to the Bronze. “If Spike shows up, you will be civil,” Buffy had said. “You can ignore him if you want to, but I’m serious Xander. What happened between us is none of your business.”

 

So far, the warning was working. Spike kept mainly to himself, and Xander studiously ignored his existence. The tension around the small table was high, though, and Buffy was relieved when Xander went off to try to talk to Anya. He was still trying to get back into her good graces, and he wasn’t having a lot of success.

 

It did get Xander out of Buffy’s hair, however.

 

Once Xander was gone, Willow started asking Spike about going to Africa after his soul, inquiring into what sort of demons had made a deal with him. Buffy could tell that Willow was on a hunt for information, which meant that she was starting to relax as well.

 

Buffy wished it could be like this all the time. She wished she could manage to find some middle ground between what her friends and family wanted for her and what she wanted. Buffy wished she knew if Spike was really the right guy for her.

 

She wished she knew that if she took a risk on him, it would all turn out for the best.

 

Buffy wished she could see into the future, just for a moment, just to know what was coming.

 

The consequences for screwing this thing up seemed to be too dire to take the chance.

 

~~~~~

 

For Spike, the next two weeks and five days were a lot like a dying man’s final meal. It was exactly what he wanted, and yet he found it almost impossible to fully enjoy it. If Buffy had given him this kind of treatment before—before they’d started sleeping together, anyway—Spike thought that he might have been content.

 

She treated him like a person, like a friend even, and that didn’t change even when the rest of the Scoobies were around.

 

Okay, there had been that once when she’d made a nasty comment because she was angry at him for something. Spike had found himself back at his house in the blink of an eye, and he realized that it was Buffy’s poor treatment that was causing him to fade out.

 

Apparently, Buffy figured it out too, because it didn’t happen again after that.

 

Knowing that it wasn’t going to make a difference cast a shadow over his enjoyment, however. Spike couldn’t fully appreciate Buffy’s change in attitude since it wasn’t going to be enough to save him.

 

Perhaps he should have been grateful that Buffy had apparently forgiven him, but he couldn’t, not really. If he was occasionally a little surly with her, he could be excused. After all, he was the one with a death sentence hanging over him.

 

Willow was still helping Buffy research, and Spike appreciated their efforts, but he knew it was pointless. He was resigned to the fact.

 

“Willow’s still looking,” Buffy told him the night before the final deadline. She was still friendly, but it was no more than that.

 

Of course it isn’t, Spike thought. He was lucky she hadn’t tried to kill him.

 

“I appreciate it, Buffy,” he replied.

 

She stared at him. “How can you be so calm about it?”

 

“Had a while to think about it.” Spike tried for a smile, and managed half of one. “I’ve lived longer than most. Maybe too long.”

 

“Don’t say that,” Buffy snapped irritably. “You’re not going anywhere. If they come anywhere near you, I’ll kill them.”

 

“There’s no point,” Spike said. “I don’t think that’s going to do much good this time around.”

 

There was a note in his voice that had Buffy staring at him suspiciously. “You know something. Something you haven’t told me.”

 

“It’s not going to do either of us any good,” Spike replied, his voice sharp. “Just leave it alone, Slayer.”

 

“Not if I can help you,” Buffy snapped back.

 

Spike stopped. “I told you to let it go!”

 

“What the hell aren’t you telling me?”

 

“Do you love me?”

 

The question clearly caught Buffy off guard. “Wh—what?”

 

“You heard me.” Spike’s face was grim. “Do you love me?”

 

Buffy faltered. “Spike, I—you know we’re friends. More than that I just can’t—”

 

“That’s what I thought.” Buffy thought she caught a note of morbid satisfaction in his voice. “So that’s what I’ve been keeping from you, Slayer. Yeah, they can be stopped, but only by someone who loves me enough to die for me. That was part of the deal. Find someone who loves me that much by tomorrow night, and the world is safe and so am I. ‘Course, I don’t know anybody who feels that way about me, so I guess I’m buggered.”

 

Buffy stared at him, open-mouthed. “Spike…”

 

“Goodbye, Buffy,” Spike said. “Please—don’t bother trying to find me tomorrow. There isn’t any point. Say goodbye to Dawn for me, yeah?”

 

And then he was gone.

 

~~~~~

 

Willow looked up from her books as Buffy came wandering into the dining room. She felt a bit guilty for working on her paper rather than researching Spike’s imminent demise, but Willow had run into one dead end after another. The paper was due tomorrow morning; Spike had until midnight.

 

She frowned as she saw the Slayer’s face. Buffy appeared completely dazed. “Buffy? Are you okay?” Willow’s eyes widened. “Is Spike—did something happen?”

 

“He told me,” Buffy said in a hollow tone.

 

Willow blinked. “He told you what?”

 

“He told me the rest of the deal he made.” Buffy shook her head. “There was a catch.”

 

Willow leaned back in her chair. “There always is. What was it this time?”

 

“Spike said that only someone who loved him enough to die for him could save him.” Buffy looked at Willow. “What was I supposed to say to that?”

 

“I don’t know,” Willow replied carefully. “What did you say?”

 

Buffy rubbed a hand over her face. “I told him we were friends, and then he kind of got mad and told me not to look for him again.”

 

“Ouch.”

 

Her head shot up. “What?”

 

“Buffy, that’s like the kiss of death,” Willow said gently. “Telling someone who loves you that you’re friends? Even if Spike wasn’t facing a quick trip to hell, that still wouldn’t be any fun.”

 

Buffy dropped her head into her hands. “Oh, crap. You’re right, Will. I didn’t even think about that.”

 

“Do you love him?” Willow asked.

 

Buffy shook her head. “No. I like him. Spike can be really nice sometimes, and he’s great out on patrol. I’ve never had anyone I can trust to take care of himself and watch my back like Spike, you know? And the sex was great—when we were having sex. I mean, seriously. You should see him without a shirt. He’s—” She stopped, her ramble curbed by Willow’s raised eyebrows and amused expression. “What?”

 

“Listen to yourself, Buffy,” Willow said. “You don’t sound like a girl talking about her friend who happens to be a guy. You sound like you’re talking about your boyfriend.”

 

Buffy frowned. “No, I don’t. It’s Spike. I—oh, hell.”

 

Willow watched as the realization dawned. “So what are you going to do about it?”

 

“I don’t know,” Buffy said, her voice almost a wail. “What am I supposed to do?”

 

Willow hesitated, and then sighed. “If I was in your shoes, I’d do everything I could to hang onto him,” she said. “I know what it’s like to lose the person you love. I don’t recommend it.”

 

“But it’s Spike,” Buffy responded. “What comes after I save him? What kind of future would we even have?”

 

Willow gave her friend a compassionate smile. “Maybe you ought to worry about that when you know you have a future.”

 

~~~~~

 

“Were you even going to say goodbye?” Dawn asked.

 

Spike didn’t turn around. “Told your sister to give you my goodbyes.”

 

“Like that’s good enough.” Dawn had spent enough time with Spike in the last couple of weeks to know that she didn’t want him to leave again. Given more time, they would probably be able to get back the same kind of camaraderie they’d had the summer Buffy was gone. For now, however, they’d manage to achieve a détente.

 

It was something, anyway.

 

Dawn didn’t bother asking Spike if he really had to go. She didn’t push him to stay. There was a part of her that knew he would have remained if it were a possibility. Instead, she came to stand next to him, looking out the window at the still night air.

 

“You should get some sleep,” Spike said, glancing over at the girl. Her eyes were nearly on a level with his own these days. “Isn’t tomorrow a school day?”

 

“I can sleep later,” Dawn replied. “I want to be here tonight.”

 

Spike didn’t say it, but he was grateful for the company.

 

~~~~~

 

Buffy hadn’t slept at all, and she went through her classes the next day in a daze. What was she supposed to do? Willow’s questions notwithstanding, Buffy had no idea if she really loved Spike _that_ much. She liked him—a lot. In a few months maybe they would have moved their relationship onto a different level. She wasn’t certain that she _loved_ him, though.

 

She had loved Angel. She’d loved Riley. What she felt for Spike was completely different than anything she’d felt for them, however. Was it love? Or was it simply affection?

 

Should she take the risk?

 

“Are you going to be with him tonight?” Dawn asked.

 

Buffy looked up to see her sister standing in the doorway of her bedroom. “What?”

 

“I stayed with Spike last night,” Dawn said. “I don’t think he’d let me stay tonight, but he shouldn’t be alone, and maybe you could actually save him.”

 

“There’s nothing I can do, Dawn,” Buffy replied. “Spike told me—”

 

“I know what he told you.” Dawn stared at her sister. “I heard you and Willow talking last night. That’s when I left. So if you love him, there is something you can do.”

 

“I don’t know how I feel, Dawnie.” Buffy meant it to sound grownup, as though she knew better than Dawn did about things like love.

 

Dawn shook her head. “Don’t be stupid, Buffy. You’ve been happier the last couple weeks with Spike around than you were all summer. If that isn’t love, I don’t know what is.” She disappeared from the doorway, and Buffy heard her door shut with a bang that wasn’t quite a slam.

 

Buffy stood, walking slowly over to her closet. She pushed her clothes to one side so she could look at it. Reaching out to stroke the soft leather of his duster, Buffy considered her choices. She could stay home tonight, and she would never see Spike again.

 

Or she could bring him home with her—figuratively speaking anyway.

 

Buffy closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and started pulling on her shoes. Willow was right. She’d worry about the future when she was certain they had one.

 

~~~~~

 

“Are you alone, vampire?”

 

“Looks that way, doesn’t it?” Spike asked, attempting to keep his smirk firmly in place.

 

The pair looked human, but his nose told him that they were anything but. It wasn’t a scent he’d ever run across, however, and with their appearance giving Spike no clues about their identity, it was no wonder he hadn’t been able to help Willow come up with a name.

 

The man sighed. “You could find no one who loved you?” he asked. “That seems a rather sad ending for a poet.”

 

“Yeah, well, I was a git,” Spike snarled in response. “You gonna get on with it anytime tonight?”

 

The woman circled him slowly, her gaze measuring. “There really was no one?” she asked. “Are you certain? What about—what was her name? Buffy?”

 

“Leave her out of this,” Spike said. “She’s got nothing to do with it.”

 

“She’s the one you got your soul for,” the man pointed out. “She’s the reason you’re in this mess.”

 

“I got myself into it.” Spike glared at them. “Can we bloody well get on with it? Don’t want to yammer all night, unless you lot have changed your minds.”

 

The woman shook her head. “No, I’m afraid a deal is a deal. I suppose we should get on with it.” She reached out for him, and Spike braced himself for what was to come.

 

“Get your hands off of him.”

 

Spike’s eyes flew open. He knew that voice.

 

“What have we here?” the woman asked. “Have you come to speak for him?”

 

“Spike is mine,” Buffy said clearly. “If you mess with him, you’re messing with me.”

 

“I’m afraid that isn’t good enough,” the man said, waving his hand and stopping Buffy in her tracks before she could reach Spike’s side.

 

Spike knew he should have gone somewhere other than the house he’d been holed up in. It was too easy for the Slayer to find.

 

“We had a deal,” the woman said regretfully. “His soul for the safety of the world. It really is a noble sacrifice.”

 

Buffy struggled in vain against the invisible force holding her in place. “Spike said there was a way out!”

 

“He did?” the man asked. “Well, I suppose there is, but—”

 

“I love him!” Buffy exclaimed. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

 

Spike turned to stare at her. “Buffy, don’t—”

 

“Does that mean you’re willing to take his place?” the woman asked her, interrupting whatever warning Spike was about to give. “Would you die for him?”

 

Buffy was silent, and then she closed her eyes. “I can’t.” She looked over at Spike with tears in her eyes. “Spike, I can’t.”

 

“It’s okay, Buffy.”

 

“You love him, don’t you?” the man asked. “And yet you don’t love him enough to die for him? He loves you that much, you know. He was thinking of you when he agreed to our deal.”

 

“If it was just about me, I would,” Buffy said. “If Dawn—and the others—”

 

“Shh, luv,” Spike said. “This is right. If this is what it takes to keep you safe, I’ll do it.”

 

“Is she really worthy of your love, vampire?” the woman asked. “She won’t even place her life on the line for you.”

 

Spike shrugged. “I never asked her to die for me. All I wanted was for her to live.”

 

“Noble to the end.” The man shook his head. “It seems as though the Powers were right. He does have the makings of a Champion.”

 

“A what?” Spike asked, his eyes widening.

 

The woman looked at Buffy. “I hope you realize what you have here. It isn’t often that a woman finds a partner willing to die for her—and willing to allow her to make her own choices, whatever they might be.”

 

Buffy was looking from one to the other. “Wait, you’re not going to—”

 

“Take his soul?” the man asked. “Why would we want to do that when he fought so hard to keep it? Good luck you two. I guess the Powers really do know what they’re doing when they pick out their heroes.”

 

Spike and Buffy were left to gape at the spot where they’d been standing.

 

“What just happened?” Buffy asked.

 

Spike cursed, furious. “They were playing a sodding trick, those bastards.”

 

Buffy shook her head. “But they were—”

 

“They weren’t going to do anything of the sort,” Spike snarled. “We just witnessed some mystical matchmaking. There’s probably some prophecy involved. They want us to save the world, and they want us to do it together. Well, they can just—”

 

Buffy cut him off with a kiss. She’d wanted some sort of sign that she and Spike had a future. If a couple of “mystical matchmakers” wasn’t a sign, she didn’t know what was.

 

Spike gave into the kiss after a moment, finally breaking it off to allow Buffy to catch her breath. “Not that I’m complaining, but what was that, luv?”

 

“I meant it, you know.”

 

“Meant what?”

 

“I love you.” It was easier to say this time, although a shadow fell across her face. Buffy didn’t have the luxury of dying for the man she loved. No matter how much she cared about Spike, she had duties, responsibilities. Dawn still needed her, and—

 

Spike cut off her guilty train of thought with a kiss of his own. “It’s okay, Buffy.”

 

“I don’t know where we’re going from here,” Buffy said candidly. “My friends are probably going to flip. Well, Xander’s going to flip.”

 

“He wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t,” Spike said wryly.

 

Buffy shook her head. “No, he wouldn’t. And you can’t stay here. If I’m ever going to spend the night, you’ve got to have a real place.”

 

“I’ll get right on that.”

 

“And you have to promise to stick around,” Buffy continued. “No more making stupid deals with sneaky messengers from the Powers or anyone else.”

 

“You got it,” Spike replied. He frowned, tilting his head. “Buffy, about what happened last year—we still haven’t talked about that.”

 

Buffy rested her head against his chest. “Can we chalk it up to a really bad year and say it’s water under the bridge?”

 

“If you want,” Spike replied.

 

Buffy sighed, hearing the hesitation in his tone. “I forgive you, Spike. Do you forgive me?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Then that’s all we need,” Buffy said. “We’ve got a clean slate from here on out.”

 

“So where to now?” Spike asked.

 

Buffy pulled his head down for another kiss. She’d missed this. “My house. I don’t think I want to let you out of my sight tonight.”

 

“Fair enough.” Spike cupped her cheek. “Say it again, Buffy.”

 

“I love you.” Buffy squeezed his hand. “I guess we’ll make the rest up as we go along.”


End file.
